If Marley was going to kill the king that had ruined her life, she was going to need her violin. She was also going to need books - lots of books - which was why when she wasn’t playing the violin, she was in the library.
Marley sighed to herself, flipping through one of the thousands of pages that surrounded her. She supposed “kill” was a strong word. Marley would never physically hurt anyone, let alone kill them. Plus, killing the king wasn’t even possible.
In the kingdom of Westwind, anybody could become king or queen. There was no royal bloodline to keep, no heirs to the throne. What made a ruler was their totem. A totem was an object the king or queen chose to represent them, and was displayed on their coronation day. It could be anything of their choosing, though it was usually something small and subtle, for the intention of the ruler was to hide it where no one would ever find it after their coronation. As long as their totem remained hidden, they were granted immortality and could rule as long as they chose. But if their totem was found and presented publicly, they had to step down as ruler and the person who found the totem became the new king or queen of Westwind.
Now, Marley had no interest in ruling any kingdom. She figured her goal to dethrone and humiliate the king without then taking his place might cause a bit of chaos when she got there, but that was not her chaos to deal with. She was sure someone else would be eager to step in and fill the job position she would open up, and it wasn’t like there could be anyone worse.
“Hey, Marley!” A voice stole her gaze from the page it was on. It was a familiar voice, one of the only ones she knew amongst the hundreds in the castle. Marley’s eyes lifted to see a boy making his way towards her. While one hand was in his pocket, the other was holding something out to her.
“You got a letter,” he said when he was close enough. “Thought I’d bring it to you.” Marley smiled, setting her book down as she stood up from the table. She winced when her skin peeled off the leather cushion, and her knees popped when her legs fully extended. She snuck a glance at the clock. How long had she been there to melt into the chair?
“It’s from your mom again. Should I open it?” The boy teased. Marley smiled and rolled her eyes, reaching out to take the envelope only to have him maneuver it away. She arched an eyebrow at the antic.
“Wow, Emery. Delivering mail? Did the knights finally get tired of you?” She quipped in response, quickly swiping the letter from his hand before he could evade her grab again. Emery smiled, standing up a little straighter.
“On the contrary, I’m on my way to lead them at practice right now,” he said smugly, then paused for dramatic effect. “We’ve got Firespinners coming today.” Instantly, something in Marley’s chest felt like it jumped.
“Firespinners?” she repeated. The word was immediately followed by the clearing of her throat as she tried to play off the way her voice cracked. Emery nodded, crossing his arms and leaning up against a pillar in the library.
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded casually. “Firespinners from Everburn. In case we ever need to go there to help out.” Marley’s eyes widened before she could stop them. She blinked several times, her mind wandering. Every spare minute she’d had since being hired at the castle, she spent on tracking down the king’s totem. Every spare minute… except for about 120 minutes every Friday.
Westwind was a very peaceful kingdom. There was never much conflict there, so other kingdoms often called upon them for aid. However, no two kingdoms were alike. From atmosphere to born abilities, every place they visited was vastly different. So, every Friday without fail, Westwind invited knights from other kingdoms to come and teach them the ways of their worlds.
Everburn was a particularly interesting place where people lived in harmony with the fire that danced across their lands. Marley’s heart raced as she thought back to the books she had read about them. They were supposed to be incredible. They had all sorts of tools and weapons designed to work with fire. Marley recalled one book that depicted a man with a staff that held raging flames on both ends. It had only been a picture, but Marley could imagine the way he would swiftly and skillfully maneuver the staff around his body. Flames flickered dangerously close to his face, but he didn’t flinch.
“You look intrigued,” Emery interrupted the imagery in her head. Again, Marley jumped, quickly clearing her throat and shaking her head.
“Pft. Only for the chance to watch you make a fool of yourself,” she was quick with a comeback. “What do you think will catch fire first? Your distasteful haircut or that cloak that’s seen better days?” Emery’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped a bit, slightly thrown off guard. He raised his eyebrows, intending to look at her with reproach that she would speak to someone of his rank in such a manner, but the smile that crept up his lips betrayed him. It looked like he was going to say something back, an insult to match hers, or perhaps a reprimand for Marley to ignore, but someone beat him to it.
“Marley!” The word shattered the calm atmosphere in the library and had both Emery and the girl in question wincing. “Where is Marley? The feast starts in less than three hours! If that girl is not on stage in two minutes -” The voice faded off as the director of the musicians stomped by the library doors.
“Crap,” Marley mumbled under her breath, quickly beginning to bookmark all her open pages. Emery smirked, watching her frantic movements amusedly for a moment before pushing himself off the wall. He reached his arms up above his head.
“Welp, guess I’ll see you tonight,” the boy said mid stretch. He gave her a sly nod before turning to leave. “Tell your mom I said hi.” Marley looked up, but he was already halfway to the door. She paused with her hand on a book, her chest tightening as she watched him go. Her foot twitched on the ground, begging to go after him. She clenched her jaw, ripping her eyes away from the boy as he left. It had been made very clear to her what her role was in the castle when she arrived. And as much as it made her chest burn, her place was nowhere near his.
Marley left all but one of the books at the table as she grabbed her violin and headed out the door. She clutched the single hardcover close to her. This particular book had been written just a couple months ago. It covered every detail of the king’s coronation, from the names of everyone who attended down to what they were wearing. Most importantly, it listed all the songs that were played.
* * * * *
Practice before a feast generally felt like it lasted years rather than hours. This time, however, it felt like Marley blinked and suddenly the great hall was overflowing with people and the lights on stage were dimming.
Marley drew in a long, deep breath. She had a few measures in the first song before she came in, which gave her some time to steady herself. She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. She tapped her toes to the beat, swaying softly. She could do this. She just had to focus.
When the last of six introductory measures had come and gone, Marley lifted her head and opened her eyes. She placed her violin on her shoulder, resting her chin on top of it. Then she lifted her bow and began to play.
The lights brightened on her as she played her first note, and she took a small step forward as her fingers began to race across the strings. It looked effortless, the way her bow danced in great strides along the instrument. In spite of everything else in her life - the way she had ended up at the castle, her true intentions regarding the king, how it made her blood boil to be in the same room as him - Marley adored playing and it showed.
At the very end of her performance, the time came for Marley and the musicians to play a song she had specifically requested. She straightened up, preparing herself for the music the great hall had already once been acquainted with. When the king heard the iconic song that had commenced the feast at his coronation, it immediately brought him back to that night. Music held memories like nothing Marley had ever seen before.
Out in the audience, the king’s head was suddenly full of flashbacks from that day. Once the door was open for her, Marley had full access to everything that occurred the first time the king heard this melody. While the past replayed in his head, Marley listened to it.
It was a bit of a difficult task to eavesdrop into the past while also playing in the present, but she could manage. Marley closed her eyes, trusting her fingers to find where they belonged as she moved about the stage. She sifted through the king’s past, landing on several different conversations. Most of them were insignificant, but as the song progressed, she found something worth listening to.
“Your highness, are you sure you want to wait until the weekend?” Marley’s ears perked as she listened to a voice that did not belong to her present time. She smiled.
“Typically, the king hides his totem the day he takes the throne,” the voice continued. It sounded nervous. “You know you’re vulnerable until-”
“Oh, I’m well aware,” a new, dismissive tone entered the conversation. Marley flinched upon hearing the king’s voice so loud in her head, doing her best not to lose her focus.
“I’ll leave first thing Saturday morning. The weather in the northern mountains is supposed to be nicer then,” the king explained flippantly. Instantly, Marley drew in a breath. Everything inside of her froze despite the way her body continued to dance. Did he - did he really just say that?
“... sire?” The small voice continued after a pause, but Marley didn’t get the chance to hear what happened next. The song was coming to an end, and so was her connection to the past. She wished there was some way she could draw out the music longer, to keep the king still reminiscing on his coronation, but she couldn’t. Before she could gather any more information, her bow drew out the last notes, and her time on the stage ran out.
Marley was exhausted. Her chest heaved up and down and her knees shook so badly she was afraid they might collapse. The moment she dropped her bow to her side, applause erupted from around the room, drowning out her heavy breathing.
“Bow,” someone whispered, and Marley did so. She took the violin off her shoulder and dropped her head, bowing for her audience. Then she slowly stood back up as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed once more.
Marley lingered backstage for just a moment catching her breath. Then a rush of adrenaline struck her when she remembered what she had just found: the northern mountains. The king had traveled to the northern mountains just days after his coronation. This could be it, the place he had hidden his totem.
Marley bit down on her lips to stop a smile from spreading across them as she maneuvered through the crowded hall. She needed to get to the library. She needed to write that down, to research what the northern mountains were like and how far they were and -
Suddenly, Marley rammed into something solid. A startled sound escaped her lips as she stumbled backwards and heard the sound of liquid sloshing.
“Hey!” Someone snapped. “Watch where you’re going.” The words bit at Marley so sharp she flinched, quickly backing away from the man - who she noticed was holding a chalice down low by his torso. She couldn’t even get an apology out of her mouth before he was gone again, weaving his way in and out of the crowd.
Marley took in a breath, attempting to shrug it off, but something stopped her. A sour, abnormal scent suddenly burned her nose. She glanced around, wondering where it was coming from. The longer she stood there, the stronger the scent became. It made her skin crawl. Whatever it was, it was dangerous.
Suddenly, Marley had a realization, and she dropped her gaze. It was the liquid that had been spilled on the floor. Instantly, Marley whirled around, her eyes searching the crowd for the servant until she found him walking away from the king. His hands were empty. Marley’s eyes then dropped to the table in front of the king. While the king’s back was turned, the servant had slipped the chalice next to his plate. Marley narrowed her eyes. There was no way whatever was inside that cup would be able to kill the king, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She was going to be the one that destroyed him. No one would take that from her.
So, just as swift as the servant had been, Marley navigated her way through the crowd. When she was close enough, she snatched a random chalice from the table and swapped it for the one the servant had set down. Then Marley made her way out of the great hall and to the closest window she could find. She promptly disposed of whatever was inside the cup into the bushes below, although her curiosity got the best of her, and she kept a few drops in a small vial to research later. Everyone knew the king couldn’t be killed by poison. So what was the goal here?
Marley’s heart was racing for a good few minutes after all of that. It felt like she had given herself whiplash, making progress in her plot to destroy the king, then promptly saving him from, well, whatever she had saved him from. Marley pulled the vial from her pocket and held it gently in the palm of her hand, admiring the dark purple liquid inside. Her footsteps echoed quietly in the empty corridor to the library. She wondered what she should look into first, the poison or the mountains, when suddenly her footsteps were joined by another pair.
“Excuse me,” a voice spoke behind her. Marley stiffened, and she gripped the vial in a tight fist.
“Yes?” she began to say as she turned, placing her hands behind her back. She thought she could keep her anxiety under control, but then her eyes met the face that the voice had come from, and she nearly choked.
“Oh my goodness,” the words spilled out of her mouth, her eyes suddenly so wide they hurt. Instantly, Marley dropped her head, bowing deeply.
“Your highness,” she said to the floor. Marley had never personally met the prince before, but she had seen enough pictures of him around the castle that she knew who he was. His footsteps continued after hers stopped as he filled the space that was between them. His toes dipped into her vision.
“I saw it, too,” he said, his voice low. Marley clenched her jaw. Her heart was racing so fast it was painful.
“You - what?” she stuttered. She could hardly even hear what he was saying, her heart was beating so loudly. Against her better judgement, she couldn’t help but lift her gaze to meet his. She was not expecting to see a smile on his face.
“The servant. I saw him switch my father’s drink,” the prince said. “Poison, I presume?”
Marley didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even sure she could speak if she tried. All she could manage was a small nod. The prince nodded, too, and very casually one might add. The news didn’t seem to shock him.
Marley’s eyes narrowed as she looked him over. The prince was not what she had expected. He didn’t hold himself accordingly. He didn’t have that charm she expected him to have, and he was much less intimidating than he was in her head.
“I just wanted to thank you,” the boy continued. “I’m not sure I would have gotten to him in time. You saved my dad’s life.” Marley’s chest tightened and she felt something burn in her throat. That was gross. She shook her head, their eyes locked.
“That is far too much credit to give me regarding a man who is immortal,” she disagreed. The prince scoffed.
There was a lull in the conversation after that, and it made Marley incredibly uncomfortable. The prince looked like he was deciding what to say next, when suddenly he realized there was something he had to ask before their conversation could progress any further.
“Forgive me,” he said curiously. “I see you perform every night, but I don’t think I know your name.” Marley swallowed, doing her best to keep a polite smile on her face as she answered.
“Marley,” she replied shortly, hoping that would suffice. But then the boy tilted his head, waiting patiently, and Marley internally sighed.
“Marley Luck, your highness,” she amended. Immediately, the prince’s eyebrows raised.
“Luck,” he repeated amusedly, as most did when they got this far in a conversation with her. “Your friends must be in good hands with you around.”
Marley shrugged, her fingers tightening around the poison behind her back.
“Depends on the day.”
